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‘So...one minute you and she are having a nice, polite conversation and the next she’s backing off as if you have the plague,’ she said, propping her elbow on the bar and picking out more fruit from her glass. ‘You were the one doing most of the talking. What on earth did you say to her?’
His eyes narrowed as he watched her devour a slice of pineapple with voluptuous pleasure. ‘If you must know, I was merely telling her about one of my more intricate cases.’
The pineapple nearly flew out of her appalled mouth. Accountancy?‘ she squeaked. ’You have a beautiful woman flirting madly with you and you talk books and ledgers?‘
> ‘It was a very interesting case,’ he said mildly.
‘Maybe to another accountant! She wasn’t, was she...an accountant, I mean?’
‘She said she was an exotic dancer.’
There was a small, incredulous silence. ‘Safe to assume she isn’t one of life’s intellectual giants, then,’ Rosalind said drily. An exotic dancer on the make and Luke had managed to let her slip through his fingers. If he had tried he couldn’t have done a better job of lousing up! ‘For goodness’ sake, couldn’t you find something more exciting to talk about...like the weather?’
‘But she asked me about my work,’ he protested.
‘Yes, but she didn’t really want to know all the gruesome details,’ Rosalind told him. ‘It was just an opening gambit, like asking what star sign you are or whether you have a light for her cigarette .. :
‘I don’t believe in astrology and smoking damages your health.’
Rosalind kept a firm grip on her sense of humour. This was going to prove more of a challenge than she had thought. ‘Do you have to take everything so literally ? Boy, do you ever need help! Luckily I’m on hand to give you a few lessons.’
‘Lessons?’ His hair was ruffled by the warm off-shore breeze, a few glossy strands stirring and lifting to fall forward in twin curves on either side of the central widow’s peak. He looked endearingly untidy for a few seconds before an absent hand slicked his hair back into its former neatness. Rosalind resisted the urge to reach up and restore the tousled look, which softened the sweeping angles of his narrow face and made him look more relaxed and casual...even rather sexy in a rumpled kind of way!
‘In the fine art of flirtation. And don’t say you don’t need any because tonight was a rerun of what happened to you last night at the poolside buffet and today on the beach: initial feminine advance followed by hasty retreat. So far you seem to have a perfect strike-out rate where women are concerned.’
‘I didn’t realise anyone was keeping score,’ he said tightly.
‘Just call it a neighbourly interest.’ She grinned, draining the rest of her drink. ‘Don’t take it too personally. People-watching is one of the accepted pleasures of being on holiday. The trick is not to let the watching take the place of healthy interaction—’
‘Of which you’ve been having plenty, without apparent discrimination against age or sex!’ he shot back. His mouth immediately compressed, as if he was angry at himself for the acid outburst. Following his brooding gaze to the uninhibited group of men and women with whom she had enjoyed her dinner, Rosalind guessed that his words had been prompted by a combination of wounded male pride and envy of her easy popularity. She forgave him instantly and defused the comment by dropping into characters.
‘Mmm, being irresistibly likeable is such a trial,’ she drawled in an impeccable aristocratic whine. ‘One is constantly in demand, but one must do one’s duty, mustn’t one, dear chap? Noblesse oblige and all that...’
Anyone else would have gratefully picked up the cue to gloss over a faux pas, but Luke’s smile was a perfunctory twitch. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were promiscuous.’
Didn’t you? popped into Rosalind’s head as she met his unblinking gaze and wondered at the challenging gleam in the obsidian depths. But then she noticed his hands swivelling his drink round and around on its paper coaster, and the tension inherent in the gesture reassured her that the defiant glimmer in his eye was merely a reflection of one of the flaming torches which provided the hotel’s beach frontage with its romantic ambience.
She sighed and shook her head. ‘You take life too seriously, Luke—no wonder you’re having trouble handling a simple holiday flirtation! Unless... You are interested in women, aren’t you?’
Now he did blink, shattering the illusion of steely-eyed concentration. His olive skin darkened a tinge. ‘Of course I am!’
‘These days it pays to check.’ She grinned, patting his bare forearm. She was surprised to feel the same electric hum that she had felt when she’d touched him on the plane. Last time she’d put it down to engine vibration; this time it must be the delayed punch of the Mai Tais she had been drinking.
‘So, Luke,’ she said, removing her hand and flexing her tingling fingers, ‘do you want my help or not?’
His look, under the reckless brows, was unreadable. ‘And if I said “not”?’
She tilted her chin and stared down her pert nose at him. ‘Then naturally I’d steer clear of you for the rest of my stay. After all, I wouldn’t want to interfere with your enjoyment of the wonderful, fun-filled, friend-crammed holiday you appear to be having.’
She wasn’t surprised to see a brief flare of alarm in his eyes. ‘Er... exactly what would this “help” of yours entail?’ he enquired cautiously.
‘You mean what would you be letting yourself in for?’ The temptation to be outrageous was too much. She batted her eyelashes at him and said throatily, ‘Why don’t you buy me a drink, big boy, and find out?’
‘Big boy?’ He was startled into a dark chuckle. It was smooth yet rasping, a very masculine sound of appreciation that was all the more appealing for its undertone of reluctance.
At last she was getting somewhere! ‘Too blatant?’ she asked impishly.
‘Erina was much more subtle,’ he admitted, hiding the curve of his mouth against his glass. Rosalind watched the transparent liquid break against his lips and thought that if he was running true to form he was probably drinking mineral water.
